


Fear Himself

by Cataraction



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street - All Media Types
Genre: Cum Swallowing, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fear Play, M/M, gagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 04:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12903825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cataraction/pseuds/Cataraction
Summary: Freddy can see your worst fears, and your fantasies. He knows what you want....and who you want it from.





	Fear Himself

**Author's Note:**

> A request from an anonymous on tumblr! Sorry it took so damn long I'm easily distracted by pretty monster men!!

Heavy slapping followed your every move as your bare feet pounded against the cement floor. Your laboured breathing followed suit as you sprinted through the muggy, hot expanses of the boiler room. A landscape you'd grown all too familiar with as it invaded your dreams on an almost nightly basis. Still, you could never create a mental map of the layout as it changed at that bastard's will. You pressed on, your mind racing as you rounded the next corner only to find a near dead end. You could make out a small hallway, but you weren't entirely sure it was large enough for you, or anyone else for that matter, to fit down. You took the chance and sprinted towards it. Hope swelled in your belly as you realized that yes, you probably would fit and it sounded like the scraping of metal was growing more distant. Just as you were sure you were going to get away, you were cut off by someone suddenly appearing before you. It wasn't a mystery who it was. Striped sweater, gloved hand, dirty brown hat and grotesque scars made it clear. Despite all your struggling, he'd caught you.

His loud cackle rang out around you and echoed off the walls. You'd stumbled back and landed on your back on the cold cement. You glared up at him, doing your damndest to shoot venom his direction. You knew he fed off fear and you prayed your tough persona did enough to starve him of his meal. As he stepped forward with a wide grin plastered over his face, you weren't so sure your plan was working. 

"Aww what's wrong? Not excited to see me?" His voice was raspy and unnatural. It seemed to fluctuate in your head and reminded you this man was not entirely physical, more of an entity than anything. Make no mistake, however, he was still very, very real. 

"You're nothing to me, Krueger. You're shit!" Along with spitting your words at him like hot poison you spat what little saliva you could manage at him. It landed on his pants and he scoffed it off, seeming unphased by it. You weren't the first person to pull that move, and you for sure wouldn't be the last. 

In an instant, he stalked over to you, standing over you and crouching down to pin you. He was always stronger than you imagined as he held you easily with a single hand to your throat. Your attempts to get up and buck him off were met with a hard squeeze that cut off your airway. Eventually, even trying to struggle was too much. After the sprinting around and given the clear advantage he had, you were exhausted. You laid there with him hovering over you, watching you intently as his blades danced around your face. 

Your heart and mind were racing. A mix of exertion and panic settling in, you knew you couldn't stop it. As badly as you wanted to continue your tough act, your nerve was wearing very, very thin. And from the looks of it, he didn't care how tough you acted, he still knew you were afraid. He could feel your body trembling beneath him and watched as you cowered away from his cold blades. Even with your best efforts, you let out the occasional whimper that sounded far more pathetic then you would have liked. He laughed louder with each noise you made, enjoying you crumbling before him. In short, swift movements, he sliced your cheeks, shoulders and chest. Each cut wasn't too deep, but the pain mixed with your wire thin nerves made you squeak and yelp. You could do nothing more than grab at the arm holding you firmly, and pray he let you go. 

"See? Just let go, piggy. There's no need to put up a tough guy act for your uncle Freddy. I already know *everything*." 

You were more uneasy in the way he said it. As if he knew some secret you really didn't want him to know. You felt your face grow hot and a new vigor to fight reared up in you and you bucked your hips up to get him off. He didn't move an inch and instead bared his teeth at you in a wide smile. 

"You think I can't hear your thoughts? Did you really think your mind was safe while you were awake?"

You had to admit, you figured you were out of his reach once you woke up. You never thought for a second he could see into your head in the waking world. It was unnerving to say the least, especially since you knew what he'd been seeing lately. 

When you weren't scared for your life in the dream world, you had taken your fascination with the burnt man above you to another level. You'd lay in bed for hours imagining his green eyes, his bassy voice, deft hands on your body and that sinful tongue. When he wasn't actively trying to kill you, you found yourself wanting him more. Facing the reality that he's been watching your fantasies along with you made you blush red and heat pool in your belly. You only hoped he didn't mind them at all. 

At this point, you were sure he was incapable of stopping himself from cackling at your embarrassment. He leaned close to your face, the smell of burnt flesh and ash invading your nostrils. 

"You like the fear, I know you do. You want me to fuck you? Force my cock down your throat?" 

Your face flushed brighter and you were sure you were burning up with how hot you felt. It was one thing to imagine it, but hearing him say it while he straddled your chest was a whole other thing. 

"Ohh I know you want to be used by your good ol' Uncle Freddy."

The hand holding you by your throat loosened slightly, trailing up to cradle your jaw. His thumb glided across your lips, prodding at them and pressing between them. You opened your lips without a fight, letting him probe at your tongue and teeth. You bundled up the courage and sucked at his thumb, running your tongue along it and covering it well in saliva. His thumb tasted of burnt meat and sweat. Disgusting to say the least, but you refused to show it. He groaned low in his throat at your suckling, pulling his thumb out only to smear your own saliva across your lips. He replaced it with his fore and middle finger, pressing them in quickly and chuckling when you gagged on them. Still, when you regained composure, you returned to your suckling and licking, making a show of bobbing along the digits and holding his hand in place. The growl he let out had a hint of a purr under it, and it only pushed you on. 

You were almost disappointed when he suddenly pried his fingers from your mouth, leaving you feeling surprisingly empty. You licked your lips and wiped them against the back of your hand. He was already making quick work of his fly, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants with just the one hand. It was pretty impressive, for what it was. He shoved his work pants down his hips just enough that he could pull his cock out. It barely shocked you that he didn't bother with underwear of any kind. 

He stroked it slowly, giving you time to size it up. Fairly average length, which you were somewhat thankful for, but definitely thicker than normal, which you were not looking forward to. It was burnt and scarred like the rest of him, but the scars seemed less pronounced. More like singed flesh rather than third degree burns. You soon realized that he was not going to be letting you kneel to do this, and you felt your heart leap as his gloved hand cupped the back of your head, raising it up. It was awkward to say the least, but you were positive he didn't care at all. You didn't dare squirm or move away, as you were sure the claws tangling into your hair would slice your scalp open if you tried. Instead, you tried to focus on what was in front of you and the task at hand. 

Once he had lined himself up, he set his cock head on your lips, nearly the same as he did with his thumb. You let your tongue loll out, licking the head lazily. He tapped his cock against your tongue, barely rubbing it back and forth and threatening to press it into your mouth. From the angle you were at, you could do nothing but wait for him to push forward. You let out a whine, trying to urge him on. 

"Ohh no need to beg, dear. C'mon now, open wide."

It was barely enough warning for you before he suddenly pressed his cock into your mouth, holding your head in place as he sheathed himself. You tried grabbing at his hips but it did nothing in way of stopping him. You gagged as it hit the back of your throat and you were sure your teeth were grazing his cock. Still, he didn't seem to care one bit. With that wide grin on his face and a slew of growling moans rumbling from his chest, you were sure he was having the time of his afterlife. You eventually adjusted, keeping your mouth as open as possible and attempting to relax your throat. His thrusts were sporadic and had no rhythm at all, you were nearly positive it was on purpose. 

You felt a light stinging in the back of your head which you chalked up to his claws digging into your scalp as he held your head tight, moving it back and forth to his will and bobbing your mouth on his cock. You did what you could to make it better; moving your tongue around the head, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking as best you could. You were happy to find his cock didn't taste nearly as burnt as his fingers, more just of flesh, sweat and musk. You were also relieved to find he had found a rhythm for his thrusts and was now mindlessly humping your mouth, his own mouth hanging open and bright green eyes half lidded as he stared down at you. It was a strange look on him, looking so blissed out and almost peaceful, but you welcomed it.

It didn't take long for your neck to start cramping up and you prayed he'd be finished soon. Almost as if he was reading your mind, which at this point you wouldn't put past him, he sped up his thrusts, harshly fucking your mouth and throat. It wasn't until now that you noticed his balls at all, but now they were pressing and slapping against your chin, making a rather obscene slapping noise. His moans turned into grunts and panting, his thrust now short and shallow as he fucked your throat alone. With how close he was, it was getting hard to breathe and with his cock pressing against your throat, you felt tears starting to well up in your eyes. He refused to let up, and continued gagging you over and over with the head of his cock. 

After what felt like far too long, you heard him growl and his thrusts stopped suddenly. His cum spilled into your throat immediately and you choked on it, trying to cough it up before he was even done cumming. He held you in place easily, however, pumping cum into your throat bit by bit and forcing you to swallow it. It was overly thick, far too salty and nearly the consistency of curdled milk. You wanted to vomit it up, but he held himself in place in your mouth. 

"That's it, keep it down. Don't want you wasting all that cum when I put so much hard work into it." 

He spoke softer this time, yet it was more threatening to you then anything else. You held it down, feeling it slide down your esophagus into your belly. It was possibly the most disgusting thing you'd ever swallowed, but you technically did ask for this. His ungloved hand cupped your cheek, caressing it as he grinned down at you. 

"That's what I like to see."

He finally pulled himself from your mouth and tucked his cock away. You breathed deeply, missing the ability to breathe normally and desperately needing it with a belly full of that stomach churning cum. Still, despite somewhat hating him right now, you smiled up at him, humming happily. He leaned down closer to your face, breath smelling of the ash that filled his lungs. 

"It's time to wake up now, but you *will* be seeing me again. Next time, though..."

He placed a single blade to your cheek, pressing it enough to draw blood.

"Don't bother running." 

A quick flick of his wrist and you yelped, sitting up suddenly only to find yourself in bed rather than the boiler room. Your breathing was heavy and your body slick with sweat. Your cheek stung and rubbing at it yielded a streak of blood across your hand. You stood to go to the bathroom to clean up your cheek, and found your stomach churning and growling as if you were going to be sick.


End file.
